


A Problem Shared (Is A Problem Halved)

by enigmaticblue



Series: S6 Tags Series [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-09
Updated: 2011-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn't expect Dean to be as angry as he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Problem Shared (Is A Problem Halved)

Castiel doesn’t expect Sam to trick him into giving Sam the full story regarding the prior year. He also doesn’t expect that Dean will be as angry as he is when Castiel appears next to him in the salvage yard.

 

Dean has wandered away from Bobby’s house, and Castiel finds him by listening for Dean’s curses with Castiel’s name mixed in.

 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Dean rounds on him immediately. “You _told_ him!”

 

“I didn’t know you hadn’t.” Castiel keeps his voice even with some effort. “Sam indicated that he already knew.”

 

“You _told him_!” Dean shouts. “You know what Death did! If Sam so much as scratches at that wall—”

 

“How was I to know you hadn’t told him, or that he didn’t know?” Castiel demands. “You didn’t say anything!”

 

“You didn’t stick around,” Dean sneers. “If you’d waited—”

 

Castiel feels his anger rise up to choke him again. “Do you think you’re my only charge? My only purpose? Do you think I have nothing better to do than wait for your call, Dean? I assure you, if I do not succeed in heaven, the whole world will burn. The apocalypse we stopped will be nothing compared to the destruction that Raphael would loose in retaliation.”

 

Dean shakes his head, and Castiel can sense his dismissal. Dean cares little for the rest of the world when compared to his love for his brother. “You don’t understand.”

 

“You try killing someone you’ve known for millennia,” Castiel replies bitterly. “Then tell me about your love for your brother.”

 

Castiel isn’t terribly surprised when Dean gets in his face; Dean’s anger radiates off him in waves. Dean grabs the lapels of Castiel’s trench coat. “I have _one_ brother, you son of a bitch.”

 

“And those brothers and sisters I’ve lost—I’ve lost most of them because of _you_ ,” Castiel hisses.

 

They grapple, pushing at each other. Castiel does not use his superior strength, although he could if he chose. Castiel feels as though he’s wrestling with everyone who has wronged him this last year—if he uses a human timeframe. With Dean, however, Castiel knows that losing will not necessarily mean a loss of life, or the end of the world.

 

Castiel can lose. He can give in, and be no worse for it. Castiel can restrain his power and give up, and Dean will not hurt him. At least, Dean will not hurt him more than Castiel wants to be hurt.

 

If he gives up, if he surrenders, Castiel will not lose in the end. He goes limp in Dean’s grip all at once, and Dean stops fighting, staring at Castiel with wide green eyes.  “Cas?”

 

“Do what you wish,” Castiel replies, but _he_ wishes that Dean would give him an order that he could follow in good conscience. He’s tired of being in charge; he wishes he were a foot soldier in his father’s army again.

 

Dean breathes, “Dammit, Cas.” Dean doesn’t argue, though. He just manhandles Castiel backwards towards a vehicle up on blocks in the salvage yard.

 

“Thank god for conversion vans,” Dean mutters as he wrestles the side door open. “Get in.”

 

It’s an order that Castiel has no trouble following, and he climbs inside. Dean shuts the door behind him and pushes Castiel’s trench coat off. He removes Castiel’s tie next and begins to unbutton Castiel’s shirt.

 

Castiel doesn’t protest when Dean pushes him roughly down onto the threadbare carpet on the floor of the vehicle. He can feel the burn of the fabric against his shoulder blades, the way Dean’s hands scrabble at his belt and jerk his pants and underwear down. Dean’s fingers dig into Castiel’s hips, pressing hard enough to leave bruises if Castiel were human.

 

Dean pops the button on his jeans and pushes his pants down just enough to free his cock, and then he licks the palm of his hand and begins to jack Castiel off. “I’m going to fuck you,” Dean promises in a low voice. “And I’m going to use your come as lube.”

 

Castiel shudders and gets harder at Dean’s words. He’s turned on, and Dean is using everything he’s learned about Castiel’s body to drive Castiel crazy. Castiel soon writhes in pleasure under Dean, and Dean murmurs promises in Castiel’s ear—“I’m going to make you come so hard, you’ll forget your name, Cas. I’m going to fuck you until you can fucking _feel_ it.”

 

Castiel comes, his hips jerking reflexively, and Dean drags his fingers through the semen on Castiel’s stomach and begins pushing his fingers inside Castiel, using his left hand to spread Castiel wider.

 

“Pull your knees up,” Dean orders. “Relax for me.”

 

Castiel pulls his knees to his chest, feeling Dean’s fingers brush against his prostate. Dean works him open ruthlessly. Pain sharpens Castiel’s experience. The burn he feels from Dean’s fingers has him hard again almost immediately, although Castiel doesn’t understand why. He isn’t inclined to question it when it feels so good.

 

Dean adds a third finger roughly, but he’s hitting Castiel’s prostate with every twist, and Castiel makes a low sound of protest when Dean removes his hand.

 

“Easy,” Dean orders and thrusts inside with one smooth motion.

 

 “Dean,” Castiel grunts. “Please.”

 

“You like that?” Dean demands. “You’re going to come for me again, Cas.”

 

“I meant what I said,” Castiel responds. “I have a war to fight.”

 

“And are you fighting it now?” Dean asks.

 

“I’m taking a break.” Castiel arches his back. “That’s all this is.”

 

Dean began thrusting his hips harder. “So, this is just sex? It’s just a furlough?”

 

“How can it be anything else?” Castiel asks. “If my brothers—”

 

Dean thrusts harder. His fingers dig into Castiel’s biceps, and he pushes against Castiel’s thighs, holding him still. “Your _brothers_?”

 

“My _brothers and sisters_ ,” Castiel reiterates. “You aren’t the only one to lose something, Dean. You’ve given Sam his soul back, but he’ll eventually remember. He’ll go insane.”

 

Dean presses down harder, and Castiel feels the burn and stretch of his muscles and his ass. “It was a risk worth taking,” Dean argues. “It had to be done.” Castiel feels Dean’s hips stutter, feels it when Dean pulls out and begins to fist Castiel’s cock. “This is my brother.”

 

And Sam is always going to be the most important person in Dean’s life. Castiel knows as much, and he’s accepted it, but he can’t help but wish it were otherwise. He wonders whether he might give up heaven if he could be certain of Dean’s affections, and Castiel knows that as long as Sam remained without his soul, he’d have some hope of holding Dean’s attention.

 

Now, however—now, Sam would once again be the most important person in Dean’s life, and Castiel would have nothing but a civil war he could not hope to win. And perhaps, occasionally, Castiel would have these moments with Dean, where he could give up control for a few hours.

 

Dean settles beside Castiel and drags him close. “We’re both such fucking idiots.”

 

“Perhaps,” Castiel admits. “I didn’t mean to spill your secrets, Dean.”

 

“I know.” Dean splays his hand over Castiel’s stomach. “I know,” he repeats. “We’ll deal with it the way we always do.”

 

There is a long silence, and Castiel thinks of all the things he has yet to do. “I should be going.”

 

“You’re busy.” It’s a statement, not a question, but Dean doesn’t release him immediately. “You okay?”

 

“I am fine, Dean.” In a moment, Castiel has put himself to rights, and he is crouched in the van fully clothed. Dean pulls his pants up, and Castiel feels as though they are on level ground again. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

“Cas—” Dean begins, but he stops, his hand half-raised as he will grasp Castiel and not let go. “Take care of yourself.”

 

“Always,” Castiel replies and flies before he can say more, before Castiel can share more than he ought of the frailties of angels, and the civil war that has claimed so many of his compatriots’ lives.

 

He is losing, Castiel thinks, and it is a burden he bears alone, although he feels stronger for the chance to set it aside for a time. Castiel knows he will pay for that decision later, but for now, he will accept the circumstances he’s been given and will make the best of it. Perhaps, in time, Castiel will ask Dean for shelter; he believes Dean will give him that much.

 

More than likely, however, Castiel will die for what he believes, will die because he feels that he’s made the right decision in taking Dean’s part.

 

Castiel is prepared for that, too.


End file.
